


oh you think i'm in control? (oh my god!)

by delightfulalot



Series: baby boom [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 17:12:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13575171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightfulalot/pseuds/delightfulalot
Summary: "What are you gonna do if you’re pregnant?” Willy asks after a minute."Have a baby, I guess,” Mitch answers.





	oh you think i'm in control? (oh my god!)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brighterthanstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brighterthanstars/gifts).



> hi this is, frankly, an obscene amount of fluff. i wanted to write a happy always-a-girl fic about auston and girl mitch, and i wanted to write something about them having a baby, and this happened. IDEALLY it's the beginning of a series of women in the nhl pregnancy fic. 
> 
> this takes place a nebulous amount of time in the future (five years? six? who knows) and auston is now a coyote, but mitch and the rest of the leafs are probably still leafs, idk, there's not that many of them in this story. 
> 
> thanks to julie for always talking to me abt this and all my dumb ideas. thanks to calu for really pushing me to write this and also suggesting auston as a yote.
> 
> title from ida maria's "oh my god!" 
> 
> POSSIBLY the timeline doesn't quite work, but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ it's fun anyway!

It’s all an accident. The whole thing. Like, of course it is. 

Except the Auston thing. That was always going to happen, the second he broke that glass off her pass at training camp. 

But the being on different teams thing. And the middle of the season thing. And, like, the _now_ thing. The whole thing, really, except the people involved. 

Anyway, the trouble starts when Mitch gets back from the All-Star break, satisfied after a weekend in a hotel room with her favorite All-Star. She’s that pleasant kind of blissed-out sore, and then she realizes that she’s _actually_ sore, like her fucking chest is _aching_ like she crashed into the boards, and her stomach is doing a weird thing where she can’t keep a whole lot of food down, and she literally can’t be around Carrick anymore because he smells too much like coffee and it makes her wanna hurl. Marty makes her go to the trainers to at least be checked out, and they ask her a bunch of questions but the one that really sticks with her is _Is there any way you could be pregnant?_

She stammers her way through, lets the trainers suggest a little extra rest and “keeping an eye on it”, and orders a pregnancy test, disguised in a bunch of regular groceries, to be delivered on her way home. 

She unpacks her groceries when she gets them, leaves the pregnancy test on her counter, opens a beer, looks at it before taking a sip, and calls Willy. 

“I need you to hold my hand and not judge me,” she says when he shows up. He reaches for her hand automatically; she slaps it away. “Not _literally_ , dude.” 

“I would, though,” Willy says, sincerely, and then, quick, “Not like _that_ , though. Don’t want Matts to get mad at me.” 

Mitch sighs and leads Willy to her kitchen, where she shoves the open bottle of beer at him. 

“Oh, thanks!” 

“No prob,” she says. “Don’t let me have any.” 

“Can do,” Willy says happily. “Wait, why?” 

She brandishes the pregnancy test at him. He pales so fast it’s almost impressive. “Holy shit,” he whispers. 

“I don’t know for sure yet,” she says. “I just -- I’m pretty sure.” 

“Matty knocked you up?” Willy’s still speaking quietly, like there’s straight up a baby sleeping in Mitch’s apartment or something. She shrugs. 

“We had a lot of sex when I went down there early at Christmas.” 

“Not All-Star Weekend?” 

“Well, yeah, that too, but I wouldn’t be able to tell if I were pregnant from that yet, it was like two days ago.” 

“Wait, is that true? Wild. I guess that’s better than knowing you made a baby in the hotel room next to mine,” he muses.

Mitch softly stamps her foot and whines. “Willy. I’m freaking out.” 

Willy gets serious, reaches out a hand to her. She rolls her eyes and takes it. He squeezes and smiles. “I’m here for you,” he says. 

She uses his hand to reel him into her until she can hug him and bury her face in his shoulder. “Thanks,” she says after a minute, and then she smacks a kiss on his cheek and heads to the bathroom. 

She brings the stick back out when she’s done, sets it on a paper towel on the counter so they can both stare at it. 

“What are you gonna do if you’re pregnant?” Willy asks after a minute. 

“Have a baby, I guess,” Mitch answers. 

The alarm on her phone goes off and they both freeze. She snatches the beer out of Willy’s hand and takes a sip -- one sip won’t hurt, right? -- before leaning over to check the little window at the end of the stick. 

_Pregnant_.

She exhales, loud, and reaches for Willy’s hand again. He comes, easily, and looks at the test with her. 

“What are you gonna tell Matty?” he asks quietly. 

She picks up her phone and snaps a pic of the test, puts it in a message to Auston, and writes ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ under it. Willy laughs. 

“Oh my god please send that to him.” 

Mitch does. 

Almost immediately, her phone rings. She and Willy both jump. One of them shrieks, just a little. Mitch shoves at Willy, her phone still in one hand as she tries to push him towards the door.

“Out, get out of my house, I have to talk to Auston and I can’t _do it_ with you here!” She’s pushing at his shoulders, but he’s being an _asshole_ and holding his fucking ground. 

“Mitch, Mitch, chill the fuck out,” he says, wrapping his hands around her wrists. Mitch pulls her hands out of his and slaps his shoulder, hard. 

“Fuck you, Nylander,” she says, and he inhales to say something when her phone stops ringing. 

They both look at it. It makes a noise like she just got a voicemail, and then it starts ringing again. Mitch lets out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and when she looks back up at Willy he looks calm. He puts both hands on her shoulders and breathes; she can’t do anything but breathe with him. 

“Go talk to him in your room, Marns. I’ll be here when you’re done.” Willy turns her around, towards her room -- _their_ room, the one she shares with Auston when he’s there, and just thinking about it calms her down. 

She closes the door behind her, leans against it to finally answer her phone. 

“Hey,” she says, and Auston lets out this giant rush of breath. 

“ _Mitch_ ,” he says, and he sounds worried and overwhelmed but underneath it all is that current of fond that she always gets from him. “What the fuck.” 

“Surprise,” she says weakly. He lets out a strangled laugh.

“So it’s real, huh?” 

Mitch looks down at her still-flat stomach, the abs she worked so hard to define. “I haven’t taken, like, a super official test or anything yet. But that pregnancy test is real, yeah. There’s probably a baby in there.” 

Auston laughs again, but this time it’s -- it’s closer to happy, if a little watery. “Can we facetime, babe?” 

“Anytime,” she says, and then her phone is ringing with a facetime request and suddenly Auston’s face is there. He looks tired, like he always does this time in the season, but also a little bit like his grin is gonna split his face in two. 

“There you are,” he says, soft, and it’s Mitch’s turn to laugh, tears pricking at her eyes.

“I miss you so much already.” 

“I miss you too,” he says, and then, “you two,” meaningfully, and that’s when she knows they’re gonna be okay. 

-

Mitch does go back to the trainers, and they give her a real test and send her to a real doctor. She texts Auston constantly, sends him a steady stream of snaps: the official sheet of paper that says she’s pregnant, her teammates at the exact moment she tells them, shots of herself with a pout on her face every time she doesn’t feel good. He keeps up with her, sends her a lot of snaps back of his face in an exaggerated pout that she saves when she feels particularly sad and lonely. It’s even worse than when he first got traded, which is what Mo says when Mitch asks to talk to him, right before she drops her news. 

“Get it now?” she asks, already sending a picture of his dumbfounded face to Auston. 

Mo shakes himself out of it. “Yeah, I do,” he says, and then reaches out to softly punch Mitch’s shoulder, captain face back in full effect. “We’ll miss you on the ice, kid.” 

“Thanks, Dad,” Mitch says, rolling her eyes, but he’s not the first person to mention that, obviously, and he definitely won’t be the last. 

She plays as long as the trainers say it’s okay and then hangs up her skates indefinitely, heads down to Arizona for the rest of the season. Before she gets on the plane, she finds the picture she sent to Auston of her pregnancy test and opens up a new instagram post. She tags Auston in the little circle that says _Pregnant_ and captions it ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯, presses _post_ and turns her phone off. 

Ema is supposed to pick Mitch up at the airport, Auston having a game later that night, but he’s there in his game-day suit waiting for her when she gets out of security.

Mitch tears up immediately when she sees him. She doesn’t even slow down, just walks directly into his chest and says, “What are you _doing_ here, idiot,” into his neck. 

“ _That’s_ how you announce your pregnancy?” he asks into her hair. He sounds like he’s laughing at her but also his hands are on her for the first time since she found out she’s having his baby so she doesn’t even care. She shrugs. 

“Did it do the trick? My phone’s still off.” 

“Yeah, it did the trick, Marns,” he says. He wraps his arms around her, tight, and then -- “Is that too tight? Am I hurting you?” 

“I played a game last night,” she says, annoyed, pulling his arms tighter. “I can handle a hug from my boyfriend.” 

“Fair enough,” he says. He kisses the top of her head, keeps holding onto her, and for a second she thinks, _we can’t do this, it’s too open, even in Arizona_.

And then she remembers her instagram post, the whole reason she’s here. For better or worse, their relationship is out there now, finally, where everyone can see and anyone can know. 

Mitch goes up on her tiptoes to kiss Auston, deep and thorough, in public. Just like she’s always secretly wanted to do. 

-

Auston is close to his parents, but he doesn’t live with them. He’s got a 3-bedroom ranch style house closer to the rink. Mitch helped him pick it out and decorate it over the summer, so it’s comforting to come back to. Familiar. The mattress in the master bedroom is the same kind they share in Toronto, and it’s easy for her to fall asleep in even when Auston’s not there. 

The first time he leaves for a road trip after Mitch moves in, he frets over leaving her alone, makes noises about how maybe she should go stay with his parents while he’s out of town, and like. She spends a lot of time with them, sure, especially Ema, but she’s also a grown-ass adult who’s about to have a damn baby. 

She says as much to Auston, who does that thing he’s been doing a lot lately where he, like, melts and cups her cheek in his hand and says, “I just worry about the two of you,” all seriously. 

Anyway that’s how Mitch ends up eating dinner with Ema and Brian every night he’s away, usually staying over to watch Auston’s game. She still goes home to her own bed, though, either ducking out before the third period or just after the game ends. She cuddles up to the body pillow her mom suggested she get when she got pregnant and watches any post-game videos of Auston she can find until he calls to say goodnight. It works for them, works for Mitch, and with every home cooked Ema Matthews meal she’s more and more convinced that moving to Arizona for the rest of the season was the best decision. 

The other thing that makes her sure it was the right decision is taking Auston to her first doctor’s appointment, scheduled especially after practice so he can be there. 

“We’re supposed to see the baby today,” Mitch says on the way over. Auston’s driving, since he still knows his way around better than she does, but she’s holding his hand in her lap with both of hers. He looks over at her at a red light. 

“He’s big enough to see now?” He sounds excited, _thrilled_ , as happy as she can remember him being, and it’s easy to smile back at him. 

“That’s the rumor,” she says. He moves his hand just enough that he’s touching her stomach, still not showing but softening a bit, and his whole face is soft and lit up while he looks at her. 

“The light’s green,” she says after a minute, and he says, “Oh, shit,” and starts driving, but he keeps his hand where it is.

-

They see the baby, a tiny little white blob in a bunch of black and grey, and they hear his heartbeat, a _whoosh-whoosh-whoosh_ that sounds a little bit like it’s underwater. Mitch holds onto Auston’s hand so tightly her own hand hurts. Auston cries. 

Mitch posts a picture of the ultrasound on instagram, captions it _he’s the size of a lemon but a lemon we’re gonna keep_ and tags Auston in it again. Auston reposts it almost immediately, putting a yellow heart as his caption. 

-

Mitch reaches the second trimester, and almost immediately two things happen. 

1) She starts showing, and has trouble fitting into anything that’s not Auston’s sweats, and 

2) she gets _super_ fucking horny. 

Like. It’s bad. Once, Auston gets home from a road trip late enough that Mitch is already in bed, and even though she’d already jerked off to his post-game video, wearing one of his jerseys so it’d be rough against her nipples, she climbs on top of him as soon as she can and rides him. 

“I love the second trimester,” Auston pants while he’s inside her, one hand on her hip and one hand on her bump. Mitch just shushes him, rolls her hips against him, and gets herself off before letting him come. 

Another time, he comes home from an early evening run, sweaty and gross, and she meets him at the door and blows him, loud and enthusiastic and sloppy around his dick, before riding his fingers, all within five feet of their front door. 

They spend at least a couple weeks showing up everywhere five minutes late and slightly disheveled. Ema keeps shooting them knowing glances and Auston is, like, perpetually red at family dinners now, but Mitch is shameless. She corners him, once, in the upstairs bathroom at the Matthews’ house, won’t let him go back to dinner until she’s come, but she’s so easy these days it only takes a couple minutes, and she’s smug for the rest of the night. 

The other part of the second trimester she’s not as into. 

Like, don’t get her wrong, it’s super cool to know the baby is growing and taking shape and doing actual, like, baby things (she reads somewhere that he’s big enough to start sucking his thumb, and then she thinks about it and starts crying, just a little. She blames her hormones), but she misses wearing her own clothes. 

She starts wearing loose sundresses and stuff, because she’s in Arizona and it’s spring and it fits without showing her off too much, but one morning she tries to put on her semi-cute underwear, since she’s already wearing these gross giant nursing bras her mom made her buy, and the elastic _snaps_. 

It just straight up _gives up_ , even though she’s barely four months in, not even halfway through this thing, and she _can’t even wear her own underwear_. 

Mitch starfishes on the bed in only her bra and cries for a good fifteen minutes. Auston, who’s getting ready for morning skate, kisses her forehead on his way past her once, and then kisses her bump really quickly when he passes her the other way. It tickles, just a little bit, and she sniffles and watches as he digs in the dresser. 

“Hey,” she says. Auston looks over his shoulder at her and smiles. 

“‘Sup,” he says, because he’s an embarrassment. But he’s an embarrassment she loves, and one that doesn’t even point out how ridiculous it is that she’s crying over her blue polka dot panties lying in a useless puddle on their floor. 

“Can I borrow some underwear?” 

He tosses her the Maple Leafs boxers she bought him “as a joke” when he got traded with a big grin on his face. 

They’re a lot more comfortable than her dumb underwear, though. 

Plus, Willy gets a hatty that first night she wears them, and secures the Leafs home ice advantage for the first round of the playoffs, so she keeps wearing them. 

-

Mitch and Auston are sprawled on the couch one off afternoon playing CoD the first time she feels it. 

It feels a little bit like someone is running the back of their fingernails up her stomach, but like, on the inside. Like that feeling she got the first time Auston smiled at her nervously and said, “Brownie’s gonna be out of the room for like an hour if you wanted to come hang out for a while?” But for _real_. 

And then there’s what is unmistakably a foot in her spleen and she gasps and sits up, quick. 

Immediately Auston is kneeling in front of her, both hands on the bump. “What is it, what’s wrong, is everything okay?” And then, “Mitchy, are you _crying_?” 

“He’s _in there_ ,” she says, grabbing his hand and putting it in the right spot on her stomach. 

“I know he’s in there, babe,” Auston says, trying to rub his hand on her bump and, like, soothe her or whatever, and normally she’d be super into it but not right now. She rolls her eyes. 

“He’s kicking,” she says, and Auston sucks in a sharp breath and they both watch the spot where their hands are in silence. 

“Nothing’s happening,” Auston starts to say, but as soon as he talks the baby kicks his hand, hard. 

“Say something else, say something else,” Mitch says, and Auston laughs. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he says, but it does the trick, and the baby kicks him again. Mitch looks up at Auston and he’s already looking at her, eyes bright and smile threatening to take over his face. “He’s in there,” he says, and it’s Mitch’s turn to laugh, and pull Auston up so she can kiss him. 

-

The Coyotes flame out of the playoffs, fast. Mitch goes with Auston to Vegas, wears her maroon Matthews jersey and her first pair of official maternity leggings -- which are perfect, and she’s never wearing anything again, thanks -- and is there when they do the impossible, and win a playoff game against the Knights in Vegas. 

She’s also there when they drop both games in Glendale, and then again when they drop the fifth and final game in Vegas. 

“Sorry, babe,” she says when she sees Auston after. She hugs him and lets him tuck his head into her neck, hair still wet from his shower. The baby kicks him, like he knows Auston needs it, and Auston laughs, his measly start of a playoff beard scraping her skin. 

“I just wanna hang out with you,” he murmurs, and she tightens her hold, presses their bodies together as much as her bump allows. 

“Bumpie and I saw a Cheesecake Factory,” Mitch says, and Auston snorts and pulls back enough to give her a look. “What?” 

“‘Bumpie’? Why don’t you just call him, like, Bear or something like that.” 

“First of all, Matthews, I don’t really want to think about a bear coming out of my vagina, thanks.” 

Auston winces. “Fair. Bean, then. They’re small.” 

“ _Or_ you have a real discussion with me about names and we just call him by his name.” 

“I am _not_ naming our child Blade, I’ve told you this.” 

“Blade is an amazing name AND a nod to the sport we both play, fuck you!”

“Do you know it’s a boy?” Max Domi asks, butting his way into their conversation. Mitch is a little annoyed because she’s all worked up about it again -- _Blade Matthews_ is definitely an OHL prospect in 15 years, plus it’s the same name as a vampire hunter, fuck Auston -- but Auston is also doing that thing where his face is going all blank which means he’s about to pull away and probably get quiet and sad about the game, so she jumps at the chance to talk about something else. 

“Technically, Domi, he can be whatever he wants to be,” Mitch starts, and Max rolls his eyes, which makes her grin. “Nah, seriously, we haven’t confirmed it yet, but a mother knows, you know?” 

“Not gonna do the gender reveal thing?” 

Mitch looks at Auston; he shrugs. 

“I think we can find out in a couple weeks?” he says, and Mitch nods.

“That seems right. Then we can have you hit a puck that turns blue or pink, or whatever.” 

Auston makes a face. “Let’s not do that.” 

Mitch smiles. “I’ll just put a thing up on insta.” 

“Perfect.” Auston smiles back, and then reaches out to tangle their fingers together. Next to them, Max shakes his head. 

“You two are grossly cute,” he says, before leaving. 

“So,” Mitch says. “Cheesecake Factory?” 

-

Auston takes them to a nice steak place instead, next to one of the fake Venetian canals. He orders them an expensive bottle of red wine, lets Mitch drink her one allotted glass for the night and then very graciously drinks the rest of it. 

Mitch eats an entire steak and sides and half of Auston’s before he gives up and orders them another whole meal. By the time they’re finally finished, Mitch is pleasantly full and Auston is loose and giggly against her. 

“Let’s take one of the boats,” he says into her ear as they leave the restaurant, and it’s dumb and fake romantic enough that Mitch wholeheartedly agrees. 

“A rose for the lady?” someone asks just before they clamber into their gondola, and Auston hands over what Mitch is reasonably sure is a twenty before presenting her with the fresh red rose wrapped in plastic. 

“A flower for my flower,” Auston practically purrs before dropping a kiss to the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. 

“You are _drunk_ ,” Mitch says delightedly. Auston pulls back, looking scandalized. 

“I only had some wine!” 

“Yeah, and red wine gets you _drunk_ ,” Mitch says. Auston takes a beat to think about it, shrugs, and then wraps himself around her like an octopus as they settle into the boat. 

“You mad?” he asks, and she laughs. 

“Not at all, baby.” She pats his cheek where he’s nuzzling against her neck. 

“You have the baby,” he says. He’s got one arm around Mitch’s back, the other one wrapped protectively around her stomach. “You have _my_ baby.” 

“I know,” Mitch says, trying not to laugh. 

“You’re so good, Mitchy,” Auston says, earnest. “You’re so good for having my baby. You can’t play and you can’t work and you have to live in Arizona with me --”

“Hey,” Mitch interjects. “I love living with you, you know that.” 

“I do,” Auston says, nodding. “I do, and I love it too, but you spent the whole end of the season away from your family because I got fucking _traded_ because I wasn’t _good enough_ \--”

“Auston, babe, stop, stop.” Mitch holds Auston’s face with both hands, making him look at her. “Honey, you know you didn’t get traded because you’re bad at hockey, right? You were the saviour of the franchise. It was just a dumb fucking business decision.” 

“Couldn’t save us,” Auston mutters, looking over Mitch’s shoulder. She digs her fingernails into his cheeks just enough to make him actually look at her again. “Ow, fuck.” 

“Auston Matthews. You don’t need to save us. We’re not in any goddamn trouble. You’re my fucking family, whether you live in Toronto or Arizona or Timbuk-fucking-tu.” 

“Is that even a real place?” Auston wonders. Mitch shakes his head with her hands. 

“Listen. I love you, you moron. You’re my guy, okay? _Okay_?” 

Auston nods, mumbles, “Okay.” 

“I’d marry you right now if you wanted to, you fucking asshole. ‘Couldn’t save us,’” she mocks, finally letting go of Auston’s face. He stays where he is, though, even as she settles back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, to actually watch the scenery go by on this outrageously expensive gondola ride. 

“Hey,” he says, slowly drawing out the word. “Why don’t we?” 

“Why don’t we what?” Mitch turns to look back at him. He’s got his serious face on, looks like he’s thinking really hard about something. 

“Babe,” he says, grabbing both of her hands in his and pulling her towards him. “ _Mitchy._ Let’s get married.” 

She laughs, bright and unexpected. “Just because you’re drunk in Vegas doesn’t mean we should get married, Aus.” 

“That’s not why,” he says, stubborn. “We should get married because we love each other. And you’re my favorite person. And, and! You’re carrying my baby.” He makes a face at her like he’s just played his trump card and there’s no way she can say no now.

“You’re my favorite person too,” she says. “But talk to me when you’ve actually thought about this.” 

And then he -- before she can turn away, content in the knowledge of being right, he starts fumbling in his suit jacket like he’s looking for something, and then he’s -- _he’s pulling out a ring box_.

“Auston,” she whispers, because she can’t speak any louder than that or she is going to sob in this dumb fake Venetian hotel. 

“I got it right after you beat us after Christmas,” he says, almost apologetic. “It felt like too much to propose when you told me you were pregnant, though.” 

“So you --” her voice is rough, catches in her throat so she has to clear it -- “you’ve just been carrying it around?” 

He shrugs. “Couldn’t leave it at home or I knew you’d find it. Besides, it’s been lucky.” 

“You just got knocked out of the playoffs,” she says softly.

“Yeah, but I’m with you.” 

Mitch laughs, and it comes out as a half sob. “You big fucking sap.” 

“Yeah, but I’m _your_ big fucking sap.” 

She wraps her hand around the lapel of his jacket, pulls him in to kiss him. “Okay,” she says against his lips. “Let’s get married.” 

-

Between googling _how to get married in vegas_ and ordering an Uber to take them to the marriage license place before it closes at midnight -- they make it, but barely -- Mitch doesn’t really think about actually _looking_ at the ring until they’ve finished filling out all the paperwork at the least kitschy chapel they could find. They’re waiting their turn to get married when Mitch turns to Auston. 

“Hey,” she says. 

“Hey,” he says back, grinning big and easy. He wraps one of his hands around hers and lightly bumps her stomach with it. 

“Can I see the ring? I never actually looked at it.” 

“Oh! Yeah, ‘course. Hope it’s good enough you’ll still marry me.” His smile is crooked enough to almost be a smirk, and honestly one of the most charming things Mitch ever seen. He pulls the box out of the inside pocket of his jacket again, pops open the top and holds it out to her.

It’s a big round diamond surrounded by a circle of small, brilliantly blue stones, all set in a white gold band. It’s elegant, understated, with a nod to the team that brought them together. It’s perfect. 

“It’s two carats,” Auston says as Mitch looks at it, and she glances up at him, surprised. He shrugs. “You’re worth it.” 

“Stop showing off,” she says, quick, and he laughs. 

“Check inside, it’s engraved.” 

Mitch holds the ring up to her face, tilting her head so she can read the small numbers in the light. 

_16+34_

“ _Such_ a sap,” MItch says, but she’s crying. She leans up and kisses Auston, and then they’re being called up to get married. 

They don’t have a ring for Auston for the ceremony, and they figure out pretty quickly that Mitch’s fingers are too swollen for her ring, so they don’t really leave their wedding with any extra hardware. 

But they’ve got their marriage license, their names printed neatly next to each other. 

Mitch’ll take it. 

-

They move back to Toronto after locker clean-out day, which isn’t a day too soon because the Arizona heat is starting to be too stifling to Mitch, who’s hot _all the time_ now. The Coyotes’ early departure from the playoffs means they’re back in town in time to see the Leafs play the Rangers in the second round. Mitch has to get a new jersey from the equipment guys to wear in the stands, her own jerseys too tight around her bump. Auston wears one of them instead, _Marner_ stretched tight across his shoulders. 

“You look good in Leafs blue,” she says, before they get to their seats. 

“So do you,” he says back, and he only seems a little sad. She kisses his cheek, idly touches the ring she keeps on a chain around her neck. 

The game is good; Mitch hates watching from the stands, hasn’t really watched a full game since she left, content to keep up with highlights instead of watching her team succeed without her, and she knows that Auston -- though he left a year ago and he’s got an A on another team -- she knows he feels the same way. 

They’re not quiet as they watch this game, though. They’re far enough away that their shouts of encouragement and admonitions to “shoot the fucking puck!” blend into the rest of the crowd, but they make enough noise that during a TV time-out in the second period, a camera finds them and they end up on the Jumbotron. Mitch waves and smiles, big and bright, and Auston keeps one hand on the small of Mitch’s back, lifts up his other hand and does that small media smile he pulled a lot as a rookie. The cheers are loud and excited, even more so when Mitch places a hand on her bump, and she’s relieved when the camera finally leaves them, so she can sit back in her seat and bury her head in Auston’s shoulder and let the tears come. 

Her city loves her, even if she was dumb enough to get knocked up and miss the playoff push, and, as has been true since she was drafted to her hometown team, she’s overwhelmed with affection for the people who have allowed her to live out her childhood dream. 

The city loves Auston, too, and doesn’t hate him for getting traded -- which Mitch has _told_ him, time and again, but finally being back as a fan, and not a visiting opponent, he seems to really _get it_ for the first time, and he finally, _finally_ relaxes, enough that when the Kiss Cam finds them in the 3rd period, he happily kisses Mitch on the lips and then, quickly, leans down to kiss her bump. 

“Shameless,” Mitch mutters to him, her cheeks bright red as she waves to the crowd again before the camera view changes. 

“Just having fun,” Auston says back, grinning, and Mitch can’t even be mad when he looks so relaxed and happy. 

The Leafs win, 5-2, and Mitch finds a screencap of Auston kissing her bump on twitter, reposts it to her instagram. She captions it _the little one must be a lucky charm_.

-

About a week later, Mitch’s doctor confirms what she thought all along: that she’s carrying a boy. She mentions it off-handedly when Zach is over one afternoon, and then two days later she gets an impossibly small Leafs jersey with _Baby Boy_ on the nameplate over the number 34. She calls Zach crying, yells “Asshole,” at him when he answers his phone and then hangs up on him. 

Auston has to text him reassurances that it’s just Mitch’s dumb pregnancy hormones, and then when she’s stopped crying, he takes a picture of her holding the jersey over her stomach, cheesing for the camera. 

_we’re naming him blade_ , she captions it for instagram, and Auston comments _ur not allowed to name him_. 

_@auston_matthews u grow the entire human next time and u can name him_ is her response. 

_@marner_93 dont give him any ideas_ , Zach Werenski comments, and Mitch likes it. 

-

Auston takes Mitch out to lunch on her birthday, but he acts weirdly nervous the whole time. Finally, after he blanks on the word for “check” when he asks the waitress for it, Mitch punches him in the shoulder. 

“Why are you acting so squirrelly, dummy?” 

Auston shrugs and rubs at his shoulder. “That hurt, asshole.” 

Mitch rolls her eyes. “It did _not_.”

“It did!” Auston insists, grin spreading across his face. “It’s that mom strength.” 

“I think that only happens when your baby is, like, in danger,” she says. 

“Pregnancy strength, then.” 

She snorts. “That’s not a thing. You’re just weak as fuck, I guess.” 

Auston’s smile is big and beautiful, and she can tell he’s gonna lean over to kiss her a second before it happens. “I love you,” he says when he pulls back, and then he turns that dazzling smile at the waitress as she appears at their table to hand him the check. 

“Love you too,” Mitch says after the waitress has left, and Auston is in a good enough mood to hold her hand as they leave the restaurant and head back to their car. 

“I still wanna know what your deal is,” she says as he starts the car; he’s driving all the time now, even if he still hates driving in Toronto, because her bump has started to get big enough to just, like, be in the _way_ all the time, and she’d just rather Auston drive than have to deal with it. 

“There’s no deal!” Auston says, but in that weird, verging on high-pitched way that means there _is_ something up. Mitch side-eyes him, but lets it drop for the ride home. 

When they get there, Auston takes his sweet time unlocking the door, saying loudly, “Well! We’re home!” 

“Why are you yelling, weirdo?” Mitch asks, looking at him as he holds the door for her, and then she turns to look into the condo and --

Her _entire team_ is there, even though they have a _playoff game_ tomorrow. It looks like everyone’s brought their families, too, and they’re all in front of a big banner that says CONGRATULATIONS, a table overflowing with pastel-wrapped presents next to them. 

“Surprise!” everyone shouts, and Mitch immediately bursts into tears, turns around and hits Auston before letting him hug her. He laughs softly into her ear. 

“Surprised?” he asks, and she nods before turning back to her team and letting them shower her with love and presents. 

-

Sometimes, Mitch wakes up early, before the sun has managed to really sneak its way through their curtains, to find Auston halfway down the bed, both hands on her bump, earnestly talking to their baby. 

She always pretends to still be asleep, keeps her eyes closed and listens. Auston talks about anything and everything -- how he and Mitch met, how much he loves her, how pissed off he still is about a no-goal call from a few years ago. How loved the baby is going to be, already _is_. The baby always moves around when he hears Auston, softly kicks towards his voice. Sometimes Auston laughs when he does that, softly rubs at Mitch’s bump and asks the baby if he agrees. 

Mitch usually drifts back off while Auston is talking, letting his voice wash over her, his warm hands protecting their baby while she sleeps. 

-

Auston’s let his hair grow out this year, and it’s long and fluffy and almost to his chin. One of Mitch’s favorite things is when he lays his head in her lap and lets her run her hands through his hair. As she edges closer to the third trimester, her lap starts shrinking, but Auston’s a stubborn fucker so he keeps laying on top of whatever he can when they’re on the couch watching TV or whatever. 

She realizes, one night in late May, that he’s started talking to the baby while he does it. 

It’s usually dumb stuff, like, “Did you see that?” when something happens on TV, but it’s also stuff like, “You’re not allowed to use this language until you’re at _least_ fifteen,” when they’re watching shit with a lot of swearing, and it’s so _dad-like_ that Mitch laughs. 

Auston rolls over so he can look at her face. “What?” he asks. His face is defiant but his cheeks are pink, like he’s embarrassed. 

“You sound like such a dad,” she says. 

“I’m gonna be one soon,” he says, and she smiles. 

“I know. I just think it’s cute.” 

“ _You’re_ cute,” he mutters nonsensically, turns back to the TV. 

Mitch tries to lean over to kiss his cheek, but her bump gets in the way. “Hey. A little help?” 

Auston looks at her again, and then leans up enough so she can kiss him. 

“Thank you,” she says as he lays back down. 

“Anytime,” he says, and then he kisses her bump quickly before turning away again. 

-

Mitch hasn’t had any, like, super weird food cravings -- mainly it’s been a lot of very specific meals from very specific restaurants, which fucks her up a little when she wants this queso from a place in Scottsdale after they’ve moved to Toronto -- but they keep hitting her at weird times, so she keeps shoving at Auston at one in the morning to make him wake up and go get her, like, that one particular veggie platter from the 24-hour grocery that’s next to the rink. 

Sometimes, the craving will pass before he gets back, and she just eats cold fried chicken from the fridge and passes out, so he’s crawling back into bed with her an hour later, the veggie platter put away until the morning. 

As Mitch rolls on through her seventh month of pregnancy and right into month 8, the cravings start to get weirder and more specific, until one night finds her sitting up in bed, dipping ketchup chips into pistachio ice cream while Auston curls up at her waist, murmurs to the baby just how crazy his mom is. 

Mitch knows that she should probably be protesting Auston calling her crazy, but she’s a little too flustered at the idea that she’s about to be somebody’s _mom_. She crunches a chip too hard and Auston looks up at her. 

“You okay, babe?” he asks. 

She swallows. “I’m gonna be somebody’s mom.” 

“Yeah?” Auston looks confused. Mitch can’t blame him, really, but still. 

“Matts. I’m -- we’re gonna have a _baby_. Like. A little _person_. And we have to take care of him and make sure he doesn’t, like, _die_!” She starts crying. “Auston, what if we can’t do it?” 

“We can do it,” he says, but it sounds knee-jerk and just like something he should say, not something he means. 

She says the same to him, through tears, and he lets out a disbelieving little laugh and sits up enough to pull her towards him so she’s crying into his chest. 

“Marns,” he says softly after a minute. She sniffles. 

“What.” 

“We can do it,” he repeats, but with conviction this time, and he even keeps going. “We’ve done okay so far.” He puts his hand on Mitch’s bump pointedly. “And we’re only gonna get better at it. We’ve got each other, babe, and that’s not gonna change.” 

“But you’re gonna be in Arizona,” she says, and he sighs. 

“I know,” he says. “And that’s gonna suck, don’t get me wrong. But we’ve been able to deal with that. We’ll figure this out.” 

Mitch nods. 

Auston squeezes her with the arm he’s got around her shoulders. “Besides,” he says. “You’re not just gonna be someone’s mom. _I’m_ gonna be someone’s _dad_.” 

“Your jokes are already bad enough,” Mitch mutters, and Auston laughs, loud and bright. Mitch feels it in her chest, a blooming warmth. 

They got this. 

-

Two months before Mitch’s due date, she wakes up from an afternoon nap to a loud bang coming out of their guest room, followed by the sound of Auston swearing. She follows the noise and finds Auston in the middle of the floor, trying to put together the very fancy crib Mitch’s parents bought them. 

“Having trouble?” she asks, amused. Auston jumps and looks up at her. 

“We’re millionaires,” he complains. “Why didn’t we have this delivered already put together?” 

Mitch laughs. “Do you want me to call my dad to see if he’ll come help you?” 

“Yes, please,” Auston says, disgruntled, and Mitch can’t help but laugh again. 

-

“Okay,” Mitch says one night while they’re both in bed, reading parenting books. 

Auston looks over at her. 

“I think,” she starts, slow, “that maybe we should just use Blade as a middle name.” 

“God, _thank_ you,” Auston says, leaning over to kiss her. “I mean, I was going to let you name him that, but I probably wasn’t going to use it.” 

Mitch’s jaw drops. “You would _ignore_ the name his _mother_ picked out for him?” 

“I can’t imagine yelling ‘Blade’ at, like, a playground or whatever.” 

“Why would you be yelling at him?” 

“To get him to come over.” 

“Why wouldn’t you be _right next to him_?” 

“Because he made friends with some cute toddler and wandered off, obviously.” Auston shrugs.

“Okay, that’s it, you’re not allowed to ever take Blade to the park on your own,” Mitch says, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Auston laughs. “I’m _kidding_ , Mitchy. But when he gets a little older and we do have to yell at him about something? Can you really imagine yelling ‘Blade’ with a straight face?” 

Mitch thinks about it. “No,” she says after a moment. “But like. Nicholas Blade.” 

“Joseph Blade?” 

Mitch hmms. “I might like Joey,” she says. “Brian?” 

“Paul,” Auston shoots back, and Mitch laughs. 

“Okay. No dad names. Sam?” 

Auston makes a face. “Dan?” 

Mitch makes a face. “Jason?” 

“Zach,” Auston says, and grins when Mitch just groans. 

“Charlie,” she says, and Auston pauses. 

“Charlie Blade,” he says, slow. 

“Charlie Blade Marner-Matthews,” Mitch says, and Auston grins. 

“That’s the one,” he says, and Mitch agrees. 

-

September for Mitch is, in a word, miserable. 

She’s giant and hot all the time and moody and has to pee every fifteen seconds because her dumb baby won’t stop kicking her bladder. 

Auston, on the other hand, is calm and sweet and spends an entire weekend putting together the nursery -- he even _stencils_ \-- and gets Mitch anything she needs without complaining, and it’s driving her _nuts_. 

“Stop being such a good dude,” she says irritably one day, and Auston just says, “I’ll get out of your hair. You need anything before I go?” and brings her a pint of ice cream and a package of beef jerky and kisses her forehead before leaving. 

Mitch takes a nap, wakes up annoyed and alone, and texts Auston. 

_come home_.

He does, and he brings home Zach and Willy and that bread from that one restaurant that she _loves_ , and she eats all of it and plays video games with her dumb boys, shoving and yelling at them, and even if she has to get up and pee approximately two million times in the four hours they’re over, it’s one of the nicest nights she’s had in a long while. 

She says the same to Auston when they go to bed that night, who just smiles and says, “I’m glad,” and starts kissing her, one hand running up between her legs, and that’s when her water breaks.

Of course it does.

“Um,” Auston says, looking down at it. 

“Holy shit,” Mitch says. 

Auston looks up and catches her eye, a grin spreading across his face. “You ready for this?” 

“I’m ready to meet him,” she says, “but I’m not ready for the rest of it.” 

Auston kisses her again, short and sweet. “I’ll be there the whole time,” he says. “It’ll be worth it.” 

“Easy for you to say,” she mutters, but she still holds his hand, tight tight tight, while he grabs her bag and leads her to the car, and during the whole drive to the hospital. 

When they get there, she’s dilated, but not enough, so it’s a long night of contractions, and Auston taking her for slow walks down the hallway, trying to get her there. He also texts all their parents, and their closest friends, and tries to keep Mitch’s mind off the pain when he can. 

It doesn’t work, but she appreciates it. 

She also appreciates being able to hold his hand through her contractions, and him being right there next to her when she’s _finally_ allowed to push, and not saying anything about her crying when they finally, at long last, put her baby on her chest. He just crowds into her space with an arm around her, reaches out to touch their baby’s cheek with one gentle finger, and cries along with her. 

-

She puts four pictures on instagram two days later, when all three of them head home together, Charlie looking around at the world in awe, Mitch and Auston so in love with him they can barely handle it. 

The first picture is Auston holding Charlie in the hospital, Charlie’s face screwed up in a cry with one whole hand wrapped around one of Auston’s fingers. The look on Auston’s face is one Mitch has seen a million times before, but only directed at her, a look of love so complete it takes her breath away. 

The second is Charlie sleeping in a onesie that says _#1 Leafs Fan_ , a gift from Zach and Willy the day he was born. 

The third is Charlie wrapped in Auston’s old-school Phoenix Coyotes jersey from when he was a kid, which Ema and Brian brought with them to come see Charlie in the hospital. Auston had immediately tried to put Charlie in it, and had given up pretty quickly and just wrapped him it around him like a blanket. 

The last one is the three of them on Mitch’s hospital bed. Charlie is on Mitch’s chest, asleep, and Auston is wrapped around Mitch, one hand on Charlie. Mitch is awake, looking at Charlie, that same look of complete love and awe on her face. 

The caption is: 

_Welcome to the world Charlie Blade Marner-Matthews, born weighing 7lbs, 9oz and 21 inches long on September 15. He is happy, healthy, has ten fingers, ten toes, a great set of lungs, and a full head of hair. He’s already a fan of the greatest team in the world, and we’ll be giving him a stick and some skates soon. We are so, so, in love._

_PS: that is Auston’s baby Yotes jersey, and the only non-Leafs merchandise allowed in our house._

_PPS: Happy birthday, Auston. I brought you home a baby. [blue heart emoji]_

Auston comments, _we made that._

Mitch writes back, _@auston_matthews fuck yeah we did!_

**Author's Note:**

> missing scenes: 
> 
> \- auston and mitch giggling through a lamaze class  
> \- auston figuring out how to put a diaper on a baby using a stuffed animal  
> \- more scenes of auston talking to the baby while mitch is actually awake  
> \- babysitting teammates' kids and simultaneously thinking "ok, we can do this" and "it is gonna be straight up impossible to be a parent"  
> \- mo got them the fanciest stroller in the world and zach got them a stack of his children's books 
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](http://delightfulalot.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/delightfulalot) and love new friends and also welcome pairings suggestions for this series!


End file.
